surprising with her bristling form of feminism, Johnny thought, wishing she’d stayed in the sweetly amenable little sister mould that he’d always found so engaging. That much younger Megan had never minded him stepping in and helping.
The flight steward came and took their glasses. The plane was about to take off. Johnny leaned back in his seat, closed his eyes and tried to relax. Fourteen hours to Sydney. Then the flight to Gundamurra in the far north west of New South Wales…the outback.
He felt the pull of it in his mind…the vast, seemingly empty land, wide-open space, searingly blue sky. It had a rhythm all its own—one that always felt good. The only jarring note was Megan standing in the middle of it, waiting for him, furiously frustrated because she had to share Gundamurra with him.
Had Patrick got it right?
The financial part, yes. Johnny could pour millions into Gundamurra without a pang of personal loss. Mortgage gone with a simple transfer of money. Plus all the investment Megan needed to maintain the sheep station, eventually making it into a thriving concern again. But she certainly wouldn’t welcome him into the life there. Over the past few years, her eyes had been branding him as an unwanted intruder, wanting him out.
But I’m in, Johnny thought on a surge of grim determination to keep what Patrick had granted him, regardless of Megan’s reaction to it. He was co-owner. That gave him the right to be at Gundamurra whenever he wanted to and Megan would just have to stomach having him as her helpmate. Maybe, given time, he could whittle away whatever prejudice she had against him.
The leaden weight of grief eased as a strong sense of purpose grew. The outback was primitive—man against nature—a constant challenge that had to be won, just to survive, let alone prosper.
Above all else, Johnny was a survivor.
He wanted this challenge. Maybe he needed it. So come what might, he was going to hold his ground on Gundamurra. Patrick had entrusted it to him.
CHAPTER TWO
MEGAN finished doing her morning rounds, ensuring her work orders were being followed, checking for any problems, chatting to the families who still lived on the station, subtly assuring them that the status quo was not about to change. They were to carry on as usual.
She should have felt relieved that the sombre mood hanging over everyone for the past few days had lifted this morning, but the reason for it was a major irritant. Johnny had arrived. Never mind that Ric Donato and Mitch Tyler were also here. It was Johnny who put smiles on everyone’s faces. Just the thought of him was enough to do it.
Charm…
It was as natural to him as breathing.
And it always reminded her what a hopelessly naive little fool she’d been to see it as something else when applied to her. There was no differentiation. He ladled it out to one and all—his trademark in the pop world where he was a big star, a master of light entertainment. It meant nothing. Absolutely nothing.
Having finally recognised that, she’d tried to bury the hurt of it and move on. It would have helped if he’d gone completely out of her life—out of sight, out of mind—but he kept coming back, making her feel bad about herself because it was stupid, stupid, stupid to still feel attracted to him. His interests lay elsewhere, wrapped up with his glittering successes overseas. Their lives did not mix. Never would.
Why hadn’t her father seen that?
Why?
Had he only thought of the money needed—choosing the one person who could probably shed a few million dollars without even noticing it was gone?
Money as meaningless as charm.
Megan grimly determined to accept only what she absolutely had to in order to keep Gundamurra running. There was no avoiding confronting Johnny Ellis over what was to be done. He was here now, having come yesterday with Ric, flying his own plane in as he always did.
No doubt Mitch had told him about the will. Though even without that pressing business, he wouldn’t have stayed away, not from her father’s funeral. She could only hope that having started a new career in movies, he might be content to be an absent shareholder in Gundamurra. After all, her father was gone. No more mentoring readily available from Patrick Maguire.
As she walked back to the homestead, tears blurred her eyes. She didn’t want to feel betrayed by what her father had done, yet the grief of losing him was so much harder to bear because he’d left her in this intolerable position of having to accept Johnny Ellis as co-owner of Gundamurra.
Her shock at the terms of the will had been followed by a wild surge of rebellion, a violent need to fight it. She’d argued fiercely with her sisters, but Jessie’s and Emily’s flat refusal to go against their father’s decision left her without any support from them in a legal action to have it overturned.
In sheer desperation she’d broached the issue with Mitch Tyler, putting to him that Johnny might well have unfairly influenced her father. After all, she’d argued bitterly, he wasn’t known as Johnny Charm for nothing.
Those laser-blue eyes of Mitch’s had cut her down for even suggesting it, and his subsequent words had shamed her. ‘Is that worthy of your father, Megan?’
He’d waited for her answer.
When she’d maintained a stubborn silence, squirming inside at the pertinent criticism of her viewpoint, Mitch had flatly stated, ‘If you want to dishonour his will, I’m not your man. I’m here on Patrick’s behalf, to help facilitate what he wanted. It’s the very least I owe him for all he did for me.’
His high-minded integrity had goaded her into trying to bring it down a peg or two, force out some human weakness in him, make him empathise with what she was feeling. ‘Why Johnny? My father took you in, too. And Ric. The three of you stayed in his life. Don’t you feel slighted that he passed you over for…for a pop-star?’
It wouldn’t have been so…difficult…having to share the property with either of his other boys. And there was no denying she needed help in these current circumstances. Ric would have dealt delicately with the problems, caring about her feelings. Mitch would have handled her needs from the city with efficiency and absolute integrity. But Johnny Ellis…whose whole life was about playing to an audience who loved him?
Mitch’s straight black brows had beetled down. ‘You don’t understand your father’s choice?’
‘Do you?’ she’d challenged.
‘Yes. So does Ric. I think you need to talk to Johnny before taking any hostile step, Megan. You might not ever appreciate where he’s come from, but…’
‘I know what he is now,’ she’d snapped.
‘You’ve just pasted a label on the man which I know to be very superficial, Megan. Johnny has not yet reached the fulfilment of the person he is. I think…’ He’d paused, his gravity giving way to a gleam of whimsical irony. ‘Did Patrick teach you to play chess?’
‘Yes. We played sometimes.’
‘He always favoured a knight attack.’
‘What has that got to do with anything?’
‘It was a strategy, Megan. Your father thought out his strategies very carefully. Don’t devalue the thought he put into his will when you talk to Johnny. Remember that Gundamurra was Patrick’s life, as well as yours, and he knew how to share it.’
The sting of those words still hurt. She wasn’t mean-hearted. She hadn’t felt jealous of her father’s pride in his three bad boys who’d made good. Nor of his affection for them.
She just didn’t want Johnny Ellis constantly trampling through her life. She wished he’d married one of the gorgeous women he mixed with in his star-studded world so he wasn’t free to drop in on her world whenever he liked.
At least, after the funeral, he’d have to go back to his cowboy movie. Hopefully